Mildew Floweret

During Potions class, Snape had given the students a challenging task: brew a potion that would determine their fate in the subject. Lucille, who had been brimming with anger and frustration, approached the assignment with a palpable lack of interest. Her cauldron simmered with a dismal, murky concoction, a reflection of her apathy.

Ernie Macmillan, sitting nearby and deeply invested in his work, glanced over at Lucille’s station. He noticed the half-hearted manner in which she was stirring her potion, the lack of precision in her measurements. Concern flickered in his eyes, not only because he cared about their shared subject but because he genuinely liked Lucille. He approached her with a mix of sympathy and determination.

“Lucille, you seem a bit off today. Do you want some help with that?” Ernie asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

Lucille barely looked up from her cauldron. “No thanks, Ernie. What’s the point? It’s not like my grades here will make a difference.”

Ernie frowned, his brows knitting together. “What do you mean? You’re one of the best in class. You should be aiming for top marks.”

Lucille let out a sigh, her frustration evident. “It doesn’t matter. My dad was a top student, and now he’s struggling to find work. So why should I bother?”

Ernie’s eyes widened in surprise. “But you’re really talented. You shouldn’t let that discourage you.”

Lucille’s face hardened. “Well, maybe I don’t want to be a part of a world that values grades over people. Anyway, it’s not like I’m stupid at potions. I can handle it.”

Ernie’s resolve strengthened. “Even if you think it’s pointless, you should at least give it your best shot. You never know what opportunities might come from it.”

Lucille grumbled but reluctantly agreed. She set to work on her potion with more fervor, though it was clear her heart wasn’t in it. Ernie, noticing her struggle, made a split-second decision. He quickly swapped his potion with hers, hoping to save her from potential failure.

As the class ended and Snape began grading the potions, Ernie’s potion, marked by the telltale signs of exceptional skill, received top marks. Ernie couldn’t help but glance at Lucille’s results. Her potion, though decent, was graded as “Acceptable” by Snape, which was a middling result but far from a failure.

Ernie felt a pang of guilt mixed with relief. He hadn’t expected such a mix-up to have such a significant impact. He approached Lucille after class, his face flushed with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“Hey, Lucille,” he began, trying to sound casual, “I noticed your potion was, well, just about average. I think maybe I might’ve, uh, swapped it with mine by accident. I hope that’s okay?”

Lucille looked at him, surprised. “You did what?”

Ernie rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just thought you deserved better. I mean, you’re really good at this. You just needed a push. I didn’t want to see you fail.”

Lucille stared at him, her frustration momentarily forgotten. “Why would you do that?”

Ernie met her gaze, his cheeks reddening slightly. “Because I care, Lucille. I know you’re going through a rough time, and I didn’t want this to be another thing for you to worry about. And, well, I think you’re really impressive, despite what’s been going on.”

Lucille was taken aback. “Thanks, Ernie. I don’t know what to say.”

Ernie smiled, a bit shyly. “Just, maybe, let me help you more often? I’d like to. And, maybe, we could talk sometime about... everything, if you’re up for it?”

Lucille nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Sure, Ernie. I’d like that.”

Spring had brought a welcome warmth to Hogwarts, as well as an unexpected new development for Lucille. Ernie Macmillan, the popular Hufflepuff student, had become quite attentive towards her, showing his affection in various ways. It started subtly with smiles and friendly conversation, but soon escalated into a full-blown courtship. In class, Ernie would often pass Lucille small notes, folded neatly and filled with affectionate messages. These notes were frequently left on her desk, sometimes with a charming doodle or a sweet compliment. Lucille’s heart fluttered each time she received one, especially given the way Ernie’s kind words made her feel appreciated and valued.

One day, during Transfiguration, McGonagall made an unexpected announcement that left Lucille feeling both mortified and amused. She had caught Ernie passing one of his notes to Lucille and, with a raised eyebrow, decided to address the situation directly.

"Lucille," McGonagall's voice rang out. "Please read aloud the note you've just received."

Lucille’s face flushed a deep red as she reluctantly unfolded the note and began to read. “Dear Lucille, your smile lights up the room brighter than the sun. I can’t wait to spend more time with you. — Ernie.”

The classroom erupted in muffled laughter, and Lucille could hear a few whispers of “awww” from her classmates. McGonagall gave her a stern look, but Lucille could see a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

After class ended, as Lucille was gathering her things, Ron Weasley approached her. Hermione and Harry stood a few steps away, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Hey, Lucille,” Ron said, catching her attention. “I was just about to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Lucille asked, intrigued.

Ron shifted his weight, glancing over at Hermione and Harry. “Well, Sirius has been in Hogsmeade, and he’s been asking about you. He wants to see you, actually.”

Lucille’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “Really? Sirius wants to see me?”

Ron nodded, a faint smile on his face. “Yeah, he does. He asked if you could join us when we go visit him tonight. It’ll be a bit of a careful visit, so we need to be discreet. Also, he mentioned bringing some food, if you can manage.”

Lucille’s heart soared. The thought of seeing Sirius, especially with the added warmth of his request, was thrilling. “Of course, I’ll bring something.”

Ron glanced at the others. “We’ll meet in the evening, around six. I’ll show you the way. Just make sure to bring enough food for all of us.”

“Got it,” Lucille replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

As Ron walked away with Hermione and Harry, Lucille felt a renewed sense of purpose. Despite the challenges and the teasing she had faced, there were moments of genuine connection and kindness. She looked forward to the evening, ready to reunite with Sirius and make the most of the opportunity to share a special moment with him.

As the night deepened and the stars began to sparkle above, Lucille found herself lingering at the edge of the fountain in the quiet part of the Hogwarts grounds. The soft sound of trickling water mingled with the gentle rustling of the trees, creating a serene atmosphere. Padma had brought her here, saying she needed to wait for a surprise. Lucille’s mind raced with curiosity and a touch of anxiety.

A few moments later, Ernie Macmillan approached, his face illuminated by the moonlight. He carried a single delicate flower, which he handed to Lucille with a warm smile. She accepted it, feeling a mix of confusion and anticipation.

“Close your eyes,” Ernie said softly, a hint of nervous excitement in his voice.

Lucille hesitated. She had an inkling of what was about to happen, but the reality of it still startled her. As she struggled to compose herself, she felt Ernie’s hands gently cup her face, and before she could react, his lips met hers.

The kiss was gentle, tentative at first. Lucille was taken aback, but it wasn't as unpleasant as she had feared. There was a sweetness to it, but also a sense of unease. The kiss ended almost as soon as it began, and Ernie pulled back, his eyes searching hers for a reaction.

Just as Lucille was trying to process what had happened, Harry Potter appeared at the edge of the fountain, his expression a mix of concern and something that looked almost like jealousy.

“Lucille,” he said, his tone firmer than usual. “It’s time we went to see Sirius, remember?”

The urgency in Harry’s voice jolted Lucille out of her confusion. She blinked, her mind racing. “Oh, right. I forgot.”

She turned back to Ernie, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Ernie. I have to go. Something came up.”

Ernie nodded, his face showing a mixture of disappointment and understanding. “It’s okay, Lucille. I’ll see you around.”

Lucille quickly left the fountain, catching up to Harry, who was waiting for her with an impatient look. As they walked toward the meeting spot, Harry’s curiosity got the better of him.

“So,” Harry began, his voice tinged with a note of jealousy, “are you...dating him?”

Lucille glanced at Harry, sensing the undercurrent of his emotions. “I...I don’t know,” she admitted honestly. “It just happened so suddenly. I didn’t expect it.”

Harry’s expression softened, but there was still a trace of tension in his eyes. “Well, just be careful, okay?”

Lucille nodded, feeling the weight of his words. The evening with Sirius was a comforting thought, but it was overshadowed by the confusion and mixed emotions surrounding her interactions with Ernie.

As they continued on their way, Lucille couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease.

As the day of the final task of the Triwizard Tournament arrived, the atmosphere around Hogwarts was electric with anticipation. The students gathered in front of the enormous maze that loomed in the distance, its towering hedges creating a formidable labyrinth. The stands were packed with spectators eager to see the champions face their final challenge.

Lucille, feeling a mixture of nervous excitement and personal triumph, found herself beside Ernie Macmillan. His presence was reassuring, and despite the challenges she’d faced, being his girlfriend had opened new doors for her socially. Hufflepuffs, who had once kept their distance, now welcomed her with warmth, making her feel more integrated and accepted.

Ernie stood close to her, his arm resting lightly around her shoulders. Lucille glanced around, taking in the sights and sounds of the crowd. Her gaze briefly met that of Susan Bones, who stood a few rows away. Susan’s eyes, filled with a flicker of jealousy, made Lucille’s stomach churn. She could sense the unease but chose to focus on the present moment.

Just as Lucille was adjusting to her new place among the students, she felt a familiar, mischievous presence. The Weasley twins, Fred and George, emerged from the crowd with their usual confident grins.

“Psst, Lucille!” Fred whispered loudly, catching her attention.

“Over here!” George added, waving her over.

Lucille looked at Ernie, who gave her a nod of encouragement. She walked over to the twins, her curiosity piqued. They ushered her to a quieter spot away from the crowd, where their expressions were more serious than usual.

“We wanted to talk to you,” Fred said, his tone more earnest than Lucille was used to hearing.

George nodded in agreement. “We’ve been meaning to apologize for how we treated you. The pranks just haven’t been the same without you.”

Lucille was taken aback. “Really? You want to apologize?”

Fred looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, we were a bit harsh, weren’t we? We thought you were getting too caught up in your problems and didn’t realize how much we valued having you around.”

George added, “We missed your creativity. You had a knack for turning our ideas into something legendary. And honestly, we’re sorry for not being more supportive.”

Lucille felt a mixture of relief and skepticism. “I appreciate that you’re apologizing, but it’s been a rough time for me. I’m glad to see you both recognize it.”

Fred gave her a reassuring smile. “We know, and we’re sorry. We were just caught up in our own world and didn’t see what was happening. We hope you can forgive us.”

George chimed in, “Yeah, and if you’re up for it, we’d love to have you back on the prank squad. We could use your touch to make our pranks truly epic again.”

Lucille couldn’t help but smile, feeling a bit of the weight lift off her shoulders. “Thanks, guys. I’ll think about it.”

Fred and George Weasley, ever the troublemakers, seemed equally intrigued. Their eyes sparkled with mischief as they huddled close to Lucille.

“Hey, Lucille,” Fred whispered, a grin spreading across his face. “Want to help us figure out what’s in Moody’s flask?”

Lucille looked at them skeptically but nodded, drawn into their scheme despite herself. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

The twins exchanged excited glances. “We’ll sneak into his office,” George said, “and Fred here dares me to drink whatever’s in that flask.”

Lucille’s heart raced with apprehension as they made their way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. The twins moved stealthily, avoiding the main hallways and slipping through darkened corridors. They finally reached Moody’s office, its door slightly ajar.

Fred nudged George. “Go on, then. Drink it.”

With a nervous gulp, George took the flask and chugged down its contents. The liquid was a deep, dark color, and almost immediately, George began to transform. His features twisted and shifted, and within moments, he had morphed into a perfect replica of Mad-Eye Moody, complete with the eye that swiveled independently.

Lucille’s eyes widened in realization. She had heard rumors about Polyjuice Potion and its use for impersonation, but seeing it in action was a shock. Her heart raced as she connected the dots: the real Mad-Eye Moody must be the one who had been missing for days. The person they had seen all along had been an impostor.

Without hesitation, Lucille grabbed the twins’ shoulders. “We have to do something! Moody isn’t who he seems to be. It’s a disguise!”

Fred and George looked at her, their grins fading as they processed the gravity of the situation. “What do we do?” George asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Lucille wasted no time. “I’m going to find Dumbledore. You need to get to Madam Pomfrey and tell her what’s happening.”

The trio parted ways in a hurry. Lucille sprinted towards Dumbledore’s office, weaving through the crowd of students and faculty. She burst into the office without knocking, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Professor Dumbledore! Professor McGonagall!” she called urgently. “It’s Mad-Eye Moody. He’s an impostor. I saw Fred and George drink from his flask, and they—”

Snape, who was present for a meeting with Igor Karkaroff and the Beauxbatons’ headmistress, cut her off with a sharp glare. “Miss Lupin, this is not the time for dramatics. Please leave at once.”

Lucille’s eyes flashed with determination. “No! You don’t understand. Something terrible is going to happen. You have to listen!”

Dumbledore, noticing her distress, motioned for Snape to remain silent. “Miss Lupin, please calm down and explain. What are you talking about?”

Before Lucille could respond, a commotion erupted from the direction of the maze. She glanced out of the office and saw students beginning to gather at the entrance, their faces a mixture of confusion and excitement.

“They’re entering the maze!” Lucille screamed, her voice carrying through the hall. “Don’t let them go in! It’s a trap!”

Her desperate cry echoed through the corridors, drawing the attention of students and faculty alike. Despite her pleas, the crowd seemed oblivious to the urgency of her warnings.

Suddenly, a hand grasped her arm. Lucille turned to see the impostor Mad-Eye Moody, a cruel smile on his face. “Looks like you’ve been quite the busy bee, Miss Lupin.”

Before she could react, he dragged her towards his office, ignoring her protests and cries for help. Lucille struggled against his grip, her mind racing as she tried to come up with a plan.

The maze entrance loomed ahead, its darkened hedges beckoning. As Lucille was forced into the office, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something catastrophic was about to unfold.

Mad-Eye Moody's imposter, a man with a cold, calculating look, snapped Lucille’s wand in two, the shards clattering to the floor. Without a word, he shoved her roughly into a large, dusty trunk and slammed the lid shut.

Inside, Lucille stumbled, her heart racing as she tried to get her bearings in the cramped, dark space. The air was thick and musty, and she could barely see anything through the narrow sliver of light. She landed awkwardly on someone else.

The darkness of the trunk was nearly absolute, suffocating and oppressive. Lucille’s heart pounded in her chest as she felt her way around the confined space, desperately trying to make sense of the situation. The only sound was the ragged breathing of the man beneath her, and the tightness of the space made every movement a challenge.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could make out the contours of a figure. The man she had landed on was in his underwear, his face gaunt and marked by the absence of one eye. He looked strikingly similar to Mad-Eye Moody, confirming her worst fears.

“Mad-Eye?” Lucille’s voice trembled as she struggled to make out the figure. The man, sitting against the trunk’s side, looked up at her with tired, wary eyes.

Lucille’s mind raced as she realized the man was indeed the real Mad-Eye Moody. She needed to get out of there, but she felt a wave of panic as the darkness closed in around them.

“Help! Somebody help us!” Lucille shouted, her voice echoing in the confined space. “We’re trapped! We need help!”

Her cries for help seemed to fall on deaf ears. She could hear muffled sounds from outside but no clear response. Desperation began to take hold, but she forced herself to stay focused.

As the trunk’s lid creaked open, Lucille was blinded by the sudden flood of light. Her eyes, strained from the darkness, struggled to adjust as she saw the faces of Dumbledore, Snape, and Harry peering down at her. The sight of their worried expressions was a balm to her anxious heart.

Snape, with his usual stern demeanor, reached into the trunk and helped Lucille out. His face was inscrutable, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes as he helped the disheveled Moody out as well. Moody’s magical eye was spinning wildly, and his face was etched with a mixture of relief and fatigue.

As Lucille finally stood on solid ground, she turned to Harry. His face was pale and his eyes were red-rimmed, filled with a mix of horror and relief. Before she could say anything, Harry stumbled forward and threw his arms around her. Lucille hugged him tightly, feeling the tension of the past moments dissolve in the comfort of their embrace.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, trying to offer him comfort. “You’re safe now.”

Harry’s voice was choked with emotion as he cried into her shoulder. “Cedric… Cedric Diggory is dead… The Dark Lord is back. Pettigrew killed him. The Dark Lord… He’s returned.”

Lucille’s heart sank at the mention of Cedric’s name. She tightened her grip on Harry, her own eyes welling up with tears. The weight of the revelation was crushing. Cedric’s death and the return of Voldemort were shocking and terrifying.

Dumbledore’s voice broke through the chaos, calm but firm. “We must gather all the students and ensure their safety. The truth must be known, and we must prepare for what is to come.”

Snape moved quickly to restrain Barty Crouch Jr., who had returned to his original form, the polyjuice potion worn off. The truth serum was administered, and under its effects, Crouch Jr. confessed to his role in the plot and the details of the dark machinations. His confessions revealed the full extent of his betrayal and his loyalty to Voldemort.

As the truth came to light, Dementors were summoned to take Crouch Jr. away. The atmosphere was thick with tension and fear as the sinister creatures swooped in, their presence a chilling reminder of the dark times ahead.

With the immediate danger under control, Harry began to recount the harrowing events of the maze. He spoke of the obstacles, the attacks, and the moment he and Cedric had grabbed the Triwizard Cup together. The cup had been a Portkey, transporting them to a graveyard where Voldemort awaited. Harry described the gruesome ritual that restored Voldemort to full strength and the horrific sight of Cedric’s death.

As Harry’s recounting drew to a close, the reality of the situation settled over everyone like a heavy cloak. The wizarding world was on the brink of a new and terrible conflict.

As the chaos around the graveyard subsided and the immediate danger was dealt with, Dumbledore approached Lucille with a solemn expression. “Lucille, please take Mad-Eye Moody to Madam Pomfrey. He needs immediate medical attention.”

Lucille nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of the night's events. She turned to Moody, who was now visibly exhausted and in pain, though his magical eye was still scanning the surroundings with its usual vigilance. With the help of a couple of professors, Lucille guided him towards the castle, her mind racing with the gravity of what had just happened.

As they made their way through the corridors, Harry caught up with her, his face etched with worry. “Lucille,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, “Moody… He used the Cruciatus Curse on him. He thought he was going to die. The pain was unbearable. Moody’s not in a good state.”

Lucille felt a pang of sympathy for Moody, even though her thoughts were swirling with confusion and fear. The hallways were eerily quiet, and she could hear the distant murmurs of other students as they began to process the night’s events.

When they arrived at the hospital wing, they were met by Madam Pomfrey, who immediately took charge. She began to work on Moody with a practiced efficiency, her face a mask of concentration as she administered healing potions and began to mend his injuries. Lucille could see the exhaustion in her eyes but also the determination to restore Moody to health.

It wasn’t long before the room filled with familiar faces. Her father, Remus Lupin, looked worn and worried, his eyes scanning the room with a mix of relief and concern. The Weasley family, with their usual blend of bravery and anxiety, had gathered around. Hermione and Ron were by Harry’s side, their faces pale but resolute.

Sirius Black entered next, his presence a striking contrast to the somber atmosphere. His eyes were dark with anger and concern, but there was a glimmer of relief when he saw Lucille and Harry. Snape and McGonagall followed closely behind, their expressions reflecting the gravity of the situation.

Flitwick, who had managed to make his way through the chaos, joined the group, his usual cheerfulness overshadowed by the seriousness of the occasion.

Dumbledore, having ensured that Moody was in good hands, addressed the gathered crowd with a grave tone. “We are at the beginning of a new and dark era,” he said. “The return of Voldemort means that we are entering a time of great peril. We must be prepared for what is to come. The wizarding world must unite against the threat that now looms over us.”

The room fell silent as Dumbledore’s words sank in. The reality of the situation was stark and undeniable. The sense of safety and normalcy that had once enveloped their world had been shattered, and the path ahead was fraught with uncertainty.